Hate machine

Men suck from the tip of yourfingernails the fluid of livesyou tore with your hands, stomped on with a battlefieldhorse dipped in flames and cutthrough by a vengeful God’s iron tools

You are a machine, a bag of organs, muscle fuelled by acrid fumesbestowing those lucky onesbowing before the cold copper toeof your boot with jaw shattering blows

A reminder of what was once cleanthe squandered talents of mankind,our saint amplifies the human heartwaters her steed at the river of envysharpening her sword on maliciouswords of gossip to poison everythingin her path